The eyes of Mrs. Belmont were fixed with their burning gaze upon the face of the speaker, and although her heart beat more quickly and the color deepened on her cheek, yet she did not quail or remove her own calm look from them.
"A little deeper," she thought, "and curiosity will be satisfied." Ah! how little you know those hidden depths! The bloom would die on that full round cheek, and the light of the joyous eyes would be quenched could their gaze penetrate that external covering of affability. Therefore be content.
"What are those memories, child? Tell me all."
Lily hesitated for a moment. The command embodied in the request disturbed her not a little, but she silenced her heart and continued:
"I remember being in a small cottage by the great ocean somewhere; I do not know where, and of being unhappy, yet there were bright spots here and there, standing out with such brilliancy that the darkness seems hidden by them. I loved the ocean, and as I learned the fact that at some time I had been called 'Lily Pearl,' this awoke in me most inconceivable emotions; for this reason, no doubt, connected with a little dream that I had lived down among the pearls, and that a beautiful lady had picked me up from the waves—that dream made me love the music of its waters and long to become a part of the mighty whole. But you are ill!"
She was about to spring from her seat when an iron grasp was laid upon her shoulder and a husky voice demanded her to "sit down!" Still they could not remain longer unnoticed, and were soon surrounded.
"The ride was too much for you," suggested the hostess.
"It is sitting in such a warm room after being out in the cold," suggested another, all of which met with no contradiction, and excusing herself, Mrs. Belmont retired to her private room. There we will leave her alone with her wretchedness and remorse. Dreary companions are they both through the long hours of one wearisome night; but when the morning draws near, and we find that no kind hand for us to clasp is reached down through the dreary shades, the gray dawn shrinks back and the dark pall of despair drops its thick folds around us, shutting out the glorious day beams from our vision, while the night of the soul still goes on! Wearisome night! full of spectral forms which glide in and out through the darkness, bringing from the past unwished for memories which tell us ever of what we are and what we might have been.
